sinking
by laurafka
Summary: Alternate ending for 4x10, in which Shae isn't a total bitch. "Tyrion, my Lion, thank the Gods!" Tyrion/Shae one-shot COMPLETE


**sinking**

 **A/N:** My first Game of Thrones fic! To be honest I felt very intimidated writing for this fandom as I'm quite new and don't have my bearing yet, but I was just too tempted to write this. Please leave reviews and tell me what you think!

It's an alternate ending for 4x10: The Children, in which Shae isn't a total bitch after all. Not canon past that episode, nor with the books.

* * *

Sinking.

That was all Tyrion Lannister felt.

With everyone else, he felt their sour words and harsh accusations like jabs from a Valyrian steel sword. It was true, what they said, that nothing cuts like Valyrian steel. However, after many years of jabs like "Demon Monkey" and "Little Monster," Tyrion had grown used to the insults.

He had put up four brick walls to serve as shields, keeping everyone out.

Well, everyone except her.

He knew the feeling of being stabbed all too well, but this was different, this was new.

Walls are useless when drowning inside them.

* * *

He had to give Jaime credit for trying, he really did. But even Tyrion knew that his father wouldn't be kind enough to keep a promise like that. The Knight's Watch was too good for Cersei's impeccable tastes, and Tyrion had the feeling that nothing besides his own death would satisfy her thirst for blood.

"The crown may call it's next witness," the oh-so familiar voice rang out.

Tyrion closed his eyes, expecting that, between Cersei, Lord Varys, and Grandmaester Pycell, the worst was over. He had never been so wrong.

When _she_ stepped into the light, Tyrion lost his breath. Had he not been handcuffed, he would have fallen on his ass.

Whether her eyes were filled with daggers or apologies, Tyrion could not tell. He began to pant slowly for air, attempting to stay calm and keep up appearances, but the sinking had already begun.

"State your name," his father said slowly. Tyrion was so lost in shock over seeing _her_ that he couldn't even register the anger he felt for the older man, sitting pristine and smug on the Iron Throne.

He heard a voice, not of the girl he once knew but of a new woman, one who had grown apart from her Lion, "Shae."

"Do you know this man?"

"Yes. Tyrion Lannister."

"How do you know him?"

Tyrion tensed, not sure what she would say. "I was handmaiden to his wife, the Lady Sansa."

"This man stands accused of murdering King Joffrey," Tywin continues, "what do you know of this?"

"I know that he's guilty." Everyone in the room gasps, but not Tyrion. He forces himself to close his eyes, keeping back whatever look, eyeroll, or Gods-forbid tears that would leave his lashes. He honestly couldn't tell what he was feeling anymore. The sinking was too overwhelming. "He and Sansa planned it together."

"SILENCE," Tywin snapped, glaring at the murmuring gallery of citizens. "Continue," he said, gesturing at Shae.

"She wanted revenge for her father, her mother, her brother. She blamed their deaths on the king. Tyrion was happy to help…"

Slowly one lie began to bleed into another as the lack of oxygen reaching Tyrion's lungs began to affect his brain.

Finally, Oberyn Martell (and the only judge that Tyrion could stand, at this point) interrupted her. "How could you possibly know all this? Why would he reveal such plans to his wife's maid?"

"I wasn't just her maid," Shae said slowly, blinking, and if Tyrion wasn't mistaken, she glanced at him before she continued, "I was his whore."

For the first time since she had entered his room, he opened his eyes, feeling his jaw clench tight and his entire body tremble. He drew a ragged, shaking breath through his nose, and then exhaled in a similar fashion.

"I beg your pardon? You said you were his…"

"His whore," she repeats, this time determination resonating in her voice. The animalistic side of Tyrion felt turned on, just as he always used to when she'd get stubborn. The sinking feeling returned, as though she were holding his head under the tub water, just like Cersei used to.

The thought of Cersei paying her off for this crossed his mind, but he quickly shook it off. Shae wouldn't do this unless she _wanted_ to. Or there was something seriously wrong…

 _No,_ he thought to himself, _you musn't think that way. Hope is the last thing you need right now._

"How did you come to be in his service?"

"He stole me," she said bitterly. "I was with another man, a night in your lordship's army. But when Tyrion arrived at the camp, he sent one of his cutthroats into our tent. He broke the knight's arm and brought me to Lord Tyrion. 'You belong to me now,' he said. 'I want you to fuck me like it's the last night in the world.'"

As the crowd laughed, Tyrion once again closed his eyes.

"And did you?" Oberyn asked, the tone of amusement in his voice.

He could hear the frown in her voice, "Did I what?"

"Fuck him like it was his last night in the world."

Just when Tyrion thought he had reached the bottom of the Narrow Sea, that he couldn't _possibly_ sink any lower, she proved him wrong, just like she always does. "I did everything he wanted. Whatever he told me to do to him. Whatever he felt like doing to me. I kissed him where he wanted. I licked him where he wanted. I let him put himself where he wanted. I was his property."

Breaths came shakier to Tyrion's lips, but he couldn't tell. He felt weak, empty. He had been drowning for too long.

"I would wait in his chambers for hours so he could use me when he was bored. He ordered me to call him 'my lion,' so I did. I took his face in my hands and said, 'I am yours and you are mine.'"

"Shae," he felt her name escape his lips, like a fresh bubble of air after a long stay underwater. "Please don't."

She turned to him, the worst look on her face. "I am a whore, remember?"

He felt his knees buckle and he forced himself to stay upright.

She continued to talk but Tyrion was unable to hear. Her last comment had woken him up, reminded him of the past. His first marriage. The lies. Who started it all.

Anger boiled in his ears, just as warm air bubbles float to the top of cool water.

Finally, when he could no longer contain himself, he whispered (though, to him, it felt like a scream), "I wish to confess."

Everything stopped. "I wish," he said, heaving for air, "to confess."

"You wish to confess?" his father asked, a pleasant confusion obviously tickling his tongue.

Searing, Tyrion turned. "I save you. I saved this city and all your worthless lives," he snarled, feeling every emotion, every bit of anger he had contained over the years spew out of him in one violent moment. "I should have let Stannis kill you all."

"Tyrion," his father said commandingly, cutting him off. "Do you wish to confess?"

A smile bubbled on Tyrion's face. "Yes, Father. I'm guilty." Tyrion let go of the reigns, allowing his true self to take over. "Guilty. Is that what you want to hear?"

"You admit you poisoned the king?"

"No, of that I'm innocent. I'm guilty of a far more monstrous crime." A feeling of release swept over him as he said, "I am guilty of being a dwarf."

"You are not on trial for being a dwarf," Tywin said, clearly tired of Tyrion's antics.

Oh, but Tyrion was just getting started. "Oh, yes, I am. I have been on trial for that my entire life."

"Have you nothing to say in your defence?"

"Nothing but this," Tyrion began, feeling the last twist of the cork of wine, allowing it all to pour. "I did not do it. I did not kill Joffrey, but I wish that I had. _Watching your vicious bastard die_ gave me more relief than 1,000 lying whores," he said, making direct eye contact with Shae.

"I wish I was the monster you think I am. I WISH I HAD ENOUGH POISON FOR THE WHOLE PACK OF YOU. I WOULD GLADLY GIVE MY LIFE TO WATCH YOU ALL SWALLOW IT."

As his father called for the guards, Tyrion had never felt so alive. "I will not give my life for Joffrey's murder, and I know I'll get no justice here. So I will let the gods decide my fate."

An evil smile came across his face as he saw a look in his father's eyes, one he had craved for so long, that of fear. " _I demand a trial by combat_."

* * *

The trial was over. He had lost. All because of stupid Oberyn Martell.

He could have killed The Mountain when he had the chance, but _NO,_ he had to give his stupid speech, lose his stupid concentration, and get his (and therefore Tyrion's) stupid head squeezed off.

Only one person had to die for this, and this person deserved it. The Mountain was a murderer, a rapist, a liar, and a paid killer. Tyrion would have felt no shame in laying down The Mountain's life for his own.

But now two people were dead. Oberyn Martell, perhaps his only friend, and himself.

At least he had gotten to say what he had dreamed of for many years before his head got cut off.

Suddenly, one of the guards bangs on the door. Tyrion supposes it's time for him to go, _meet his fate._

When the door didn't open, he yells "Oh get on with it, you son of a whore!"

He is surprised to be greeted by his brother Jaime. "Is that any way to speak about our mother?"

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" He responds. "A galley's waiting in the bay bound for the Free Cities."

Tyrion frowns. "Who's helping you."

"Varys."

"Varys?"

Jaime smiles. "It appears you have more friends than you thought."

* * *

After bidding his brother farewell, Tyrion stops at the door where he's to meet Varys. After thinking for a moment, he turns around. There's something he has to do first.

Tyrion wanders the halls, eventually finding himself in his father's chambers. He feels the knife cold against his sock that he stole from an adjoining room.

However, he is very surprised to find that it is not his father lying asleep in bed, but Shae.

A wave of betrayal falls over him.

"Tywin…" she mumbles, awaking from her slumber. When she sees Tyrion standing in the corner, a loud breath of relief leaves her lips. "Tyrion, my Lion, thank the Gods!" she exclaims, rising from the bed to run toward him.

He frowns. "What-"

She cuts him off. "I am so sorry for what they made me say in there. Your father… they sent men after me in my new home. They said if I did as told you would be pardoned, allowed to work on the Knight's Guard, but if not then… horrible things would be done to the both of us," she says, shivering.

He wraps his arms around her and she falls to her knees, embracing him. He lets out a sigh. "But I sent you away," he says, the sound of raw emotion still in his voice. "I made you leave. What I said… it wasn't true…"

She smiles and slaps the back of his head softly. "You think I don't know that? You aren't that good of a liar, Tyrion Lannister." He laughs. "Varys told me everything. I am so sorry," she says again.

"It's alright," he says, a laugh of relief leaving his lips. He begins to open his mouth to tell her about Jaime's plan, when suddenly a long gold sword pokes out from her mouth.

Her blood splatters on Tyrion's face but he takes no notice. His eyes widen in horror as she falls, knocking him to the floor, already dead in his shaking arms.

Where she once stood, now stood Tywin Lannister. "Knew I should never have trusted the whore," he mutters.

Rage beings to fuel Tyrion's blood. "I loved her, you know. And you killed her."

"She was a whore," Tywin says calmly, a smug look on his face.

Tyrion narrows his eyes. "Say that word again…" his fingers grip the hilt of the knife tightly.

"And what? You'll kill your own father? No, you're my son. Enough of this nonsense."

Tyrion bares his teeth. "I am your son and you sentenced me to die. And then you killed _her._ "

"What?" Tywin laughs. "All of this over a dead whore?"

The second the word whore left his mouth, Tyrion's knife is in his father's throat. Between adrenaline, too much wine, and the fact that his father was caught off guard, he is somehow able to reach.

A quiet mumble and a look of shock spreads over his face. "You… stabbed… me…," he mumbles, "you're no son… of mine…"

"I am your son," Tyrion says quietly. "I have always been your son."

And with that, Tywin Lannister fell dead to the ground, body lying cold next to Shae's.

Tyrion knew he didn't have time to mourn her properly, but he reached down, closed her eyes, kissed her forehead, and was out the door.

When he reached Varys, bloody knife still in hand, the eunuch asked, "What have you done?"

Tyrion grimaced. "What needed to be done."


End file.
